


Can't Hold It Back Anymore

by aleksrothis



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018 NHL All-Star Weekend, Hockey Holidays 2018, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-15 08:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16930173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis
Summary: Marc loves going into heat and he knows who he wants to spend this one with.





	Can't Hold It Back Anymore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [remiges](https://archiveofourown.org/users/remiges/gifts).



> So I kind of mushed a couple of your prompts together, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Marc is looking forward to his heat. Some people might have thought it inconvenient to fall across the All-Star Game weekend but as far as he’s concerned it’s perfect timing. Besides, he has plans for who he wants to spend it with, even if they don’t know it yet.

He doesn't even care that it's going to get him more attention this weekend. If anything, his scent might keep some of the most annoying alpha reporters at a distance rather than asking him incessant questions about how he feels about Vegas, as though their success means being there rather than in Pittsburgh isn't still a sore spot.

He’s never been interested in taking suppressants. Sure, it might help for scheduling heats but he’s never needed to miss a game, though there had been a few times he’d been glad to be sitting on the bench and hoping he wouldn’t get called on to go in in relief. 

Being selected as an All-Star is supposed to be an honour, though not everyone feels that way. After the way his season started, Marc isn’t sure he deserves that honour over some of his new teammates but he isn’t about to turn down the opportunity.

Maybe he should have stayed at home to see his heat out with Vero but she understood; after weeks of darkened rooms and hushed voices whilst he recovered from his latest concussion, Marc needed to be here. Sid has even promised to make it, as much as he hates these types of events. Of course, Marc could have brought Vero along but she had approved of his plan, so long as he shared all the details afterwards, another reason he preferred beta companionship over alpha possessiveness.

*

By the time they get to Tampa, Marc is feeling great. He knows he smells good and that people will be able to tell.

He sees the flash of realisation on the faces of the few reporters who can scent his pheromones. It’s not that omegas, or alphas even, are particularly rare, just that the ratio in professional sports is higher than in the general populace, and hockey is no exception. Some news outlets considered it to be a bonus if their reporters could connect to the players as a fellow alpha or even omega, while others appreciated not having a heightened awareness of locker room scents.

Tampa is hot but, this close to his heat, Marc can’t tell if what he is feeling is due to the actual temperature or his own rising need. Either way, by the time they get through all the media sessions, Marc can feel sweat beading in his hairline and down his back. All his gear is going to be saturated in his scent and he smiles in satisfaction at the thought.

In the dressing room, McDavid looks awkward as he asks if Marc’s sure he’s feeling okay. Marc gives his temporary captain his widest grin, telling him, “I’m feeling great!” 

Gallant gives him a searching look and pulls him aside as they get ready to skate out. “Are you sure you want to go out like this? You’re going to get some extra attention out there.” 

Still, Marc isn’t bothered. “I can handle it,” he promises his coach.

As the day draws on, he feels it building, the alphas among his Pacific teammates starting to take notice of him first, and then some alphas on the other teams giving him long glances, but it's not their attention he wants.

Where they’re split into their divisions, Marc can’t spend as much time as he’d like with Tanger or Sid. He doesn’t know Smith well so hangs out with Rinne on the Pacific team. The other omega smells settled so Marc isn’t worried about setting his heat off anyway. 

Marc still spends as much time around the Metro players as he can, skating back and forth, knowing he is taunting them, one of them in particular, with his scent.

McCauley asks if he wants them to bring the save streak contest forward or if he wants to go first but Marc refuses. He likes the build-up, the anticipation of it as he watches the other goalies go before him. Marc has plenty of chirping prepared after Rinne blanks Sid and Tanger and especially when it’s Giroux who finally breaks through. 

“Good shot,” he calls out as Giroux skates past.

The other man narrows his eyes, frowning at Marc, and it's clear when he gets a full breath of Marc's scent. Giroux turns sharply and skates away while Marc grins. He'll come round soon enough.

The cool of the ice helps hold off his need but Marc’s still burning with excitement as he skates out. He settles into the goal, leaning back against the crossbar. Marc can feeling the slick growing between his legs but he takes a deep breath, shakes the feeling off. He can do this.

He especially enjoys the looks he gets off the Atlantic guys as they come in to shoot on _his_ goal, several of them ending up missing the net entirely or shooting wide and hitting the posts. Kucherov finally breaks through but Marc’s passed Rinne to take the lead.

Tanger is quick to congratulate him when Marc skates back to the group. “What’s with the ‘Frozen’ soundtrack though,” he complains. “You don’t hear that enough at home?”

Marc giggles. “I thought it was appropriate, no?”

Tanger just shakes his head. “You can be such an asshole.”

It is deeply satisfying to win the contest but it's getting harder to keep his composure and Marc is dripping with sweat when they interview him after, struggling to focus on their questions. 

When the competition is finally over, and everyone heads to the bar, Marc and Nealer take the opportunity to catch up with Sid and Tanger, though Marc is not really concentrating on what they have to say.

Tanger lets Marc lean on him; Marc has missed him and, though they’ve been cuddling up as much as they can all weekend, he’s going to need more than that soon. His pants are already damp with his slick and he finds himself shifting in place, feeling needy.

Marc catches Giroux’s eyes across the room; the Flyer looks flushed and slightly desperate. Marc smiles at him and knows it's time to go. He just hopes Giroux can take the hint.

They’d had a good time together at last year’s All-Star Game and Marc was looking forward to picking up again where they'd left off. They had a lot in common and he suspected Tanger felt the same, though he’d never willingly admit to it.

Marc gives an exaggerated yawn. “Alors, I think it’s time to call it a night.” 

Sid looks suspiciously at him but wisely doesn’t comment. He has learned over the years Marc didn't appreciate his alpha interference and that usually he didn't _want_ to know what Marc was doing anyway. Nealer just looks at him blankly, as oblivious as ever to Marc’s thickening scent.

“I’ll walk you back to your room,” Tanger insists. Though he can't scent Marc's heat, they've spent too many of them together for him not to recognise it.

Sid looks less constipated at that, probably relieved, but then Marc’s sure it hasn’t occurred to him what they’re actually intending to do. Even when he'd been a Penguin, Sid seemed to have a particular blind spot for the omegas on the team.

Alphas don’t tend to think of betas as an option for an omega in heat, though they can understand an omega spending their heat alone, if necessary. Given Marc has never shown an interest in any alpha, he almost wonders what Sid thinks he does for heats at home with Vero, but it's probably better not to ask. 

Marc and Tanger get a few looks heading back through the hotel, mostly alphas drawn to Marc’s scent but Tanger glares at them until they back off. He might not be an alpha but he has made a reputation for himself on the ice and no-one’s going to challenge him.

Finally they make it to Marc's room without incident, the door slamming shut behind them. Marc arches under Tanger's touch as he is pushed up against the door.

“Such a tease, Marc-André,” Tanger tells him, his tone somewhere between proud and reproachful as he untucks Marc’s shirt, cool hands a contrast to Marc’s warmth. “Making them all want you but none of _them_ get to be here.”

Marc shuts him up with a dirty kiss, tongues sliding against each other. Tanger nips at Marc’s tongue, bites his lip as he pulls back. Marc can feel how wet he is, pants now soaked through as they stumble across the room, kicking off their shoes and falling back onto the bed, just kissing for now. Marc enjoys the build-up and Tanger doesn't have the scent-driven imperative an alpha would to mate.

There’s a knock on the door. Tanger pulls back looking nonplussed but Marc just smiles broadly at him; this is what he’s been waiting for. Tanger looks resigned as he gets up to unlock and open the door.

As soon as it’s open wide enough, Giroux pushes in past him. “Fuck you, Fleury,” he says, scowling. “You knew you would trigger my heat too.”

Marc gives him a satisfied smile. “But Claude, you love it.” He hadn't _known_ it would work, but they'd been pretty closely synced before so he had _hoped_. Though there had always been the possibility Giroux would find someone else to see him through it.

“Is he staying?” Claude continues, gesturing at Kris and ignoring the question.

“Who invited you?” Kris asks rudely.

“I did,” Marc says, as they both turn to look at him.

“Who says I'm interested?” Claude demands, but his face is even more flushed now and Marc can smell his rising heat too.

“That's not what you said last time,” Kris retorts. Marc resists the urge to fist-pump; he knew they had to have hooked up before.

“Maybe you weren't that good.” Claude glares at him.

“Well Sid's free this evening,” Kris says, glaring back. “You could go try him.”

Giroux’s expression contorts in anger but before he can respond, Flower shuts them both up by the expedient method of stripping off the last of his clothes and spreading his legs. “Are either of you going to fuck me or do I have to do everything myself?”

It works. They both turn to him and Giroux makes an urgent noise.

Kris staggers back to the bed and kneels down to kiss him desperately.

Marc allows it for a few moments, until he feels the bed dip again and then he pulls Kris away with a hand in his hair. “You're wearing too many clothes, mon beau.”

While Kris strips, Marc turns instead to Giroux, who has taken the time to actually fold his clothes and put them on a chair before joining them. Given how his skin is damp with sweat, Marc has to admire his patience, or more likely stubbornness. The flush goes all the way down his chest and Marc always appreciates the way it clashes with his hair.

Marc pulls Giroux into a sloppy kiss, pressing up against his body and running his hands over Giroux’s back and sides, the physical contact easing their urgency, but both too far gone to take things slowly.

Giroux grabs his ass and pulls them closer together. In return, Marc bites down on his collarbone, leaving a mark to remember him by in the morning.

Giroux almost twists off the bed in surprise as Kris returns, taking both their dicks in his hand and stroking. Marc approves of the way Kris’ hard dick presses against his thigh as Kris reaches round between them and how cool Kris feels against his overheated skin.

Marc squirms against him and Kris bites down on his shoulder then pulls away, pushing Marc over onto his back and settling between his thighs.

With a hand still on Marc's dick, Kris leans over and takes Giroux in his mouth, his other hand resting on Giroux’s hip. Giroux groans as Kris pulls off and then turns to repeat the action on Marc.

He proceeds to messily try to blow them both at the same time, going from one dick to the other, spit trailing between them. He is good at this and Marc enjoys the scrape of Kris’ stubble against his thighs, though it isn't precisely what he aches for. 

He turns his head, to meet Giroux's lips again, and reaches out for more contact, resting his hand on Giroux’s chest, where he can feel how fast his heart is beating. 

Looking down, Giroux has a hand on Kris’ head, though his slack fingers have no grip. The sight is even hotter than Marc had anticipated.

Marc feels himself getting wetter, starting to ache for something inside him but then Kris winks up at him and proceeds to take him all the way into his throat. Even without any further stimulation, it doesn't take Marc long to come, as wound up as he is.

With an orgasm taking the edge of his need for a little while, Marc lays back to enjoy the sight before him. Giroux is still moving impatiently until, suddenly, he tips his head back and groans. From the way his hips jerk, Marc suspects Kris gets a finger inside him.

Marc manages to take Giroux's hand, lets him squeeze his fingers. He's almost jealous as Kris leaves hickeys on Giroux's thighs while fingering him to his climax, but Marc knows he will get his turn.

Kris is still hard when he pushes up the bed to lie between them, catching his breath and Giroux is recovering quickly.

It doesn't take long for the needy feeling to become overwhelming and Marc starts to fidget. “Is someone actually going to fuck me now?”

Giroux huffs at him. “Always so fucking demanding.”

Marc ignores him, pulling himself up onto his hands and knees, presenting, and Kris groans. “You'll be the death of me one of these days.” 

It doesn't stop him getting his hands on Marc's ass, pressing two fingers in to see how open he is. “Come on,” Marc grumbles. “You know I'm ready.”

“Maybe I like making you wait,” Kris teases.

“Asshole,” Marc says, though he knows Kris won't take him seriously.

“Maybe you should get on with it so he shuts the fuck up,” Giroux says and Marc feels a second hand on his ass and then another finger spreading him open.

Marc shudders at the delicious stretch and pushes back into their touch.

“Okay, okay, I've got you.” The fingers pull away then Marc groans as Kris’ pushes easily into his aching, wet hole; his perfect dick, long and slender, just how Marc needs it. 

This is one of his favourite parts of heat, how easy it is for his partner to just slide in. Marc generally prefers betas since he doesn't particularly like being knotted and alpha dicks are always too thick, and usually attached to shithead alphas.

He gets about a minute to just enjoy being filled before Giroux starts to complain. “What about me?”

“I've only got one dick,” Kris tells him and Marc snorts with laughter. 

“Come here,” Marc tells Giroux. It takes a little shifting to get the three of them into a comfortable position but they work it out. 

Kris has got Giroux relaxed enough that Marc can push three fingers in straight away. He wishes he could get his tongue in there too but he isn't that flexible so instead pulls his hand back to lick off the slick webbing between his fingers.

“Come on,” Giroux demands, hitching his hips up towards Marc.

Kris fucks Marc while he steadily works his fingers, then his whole fist into Giroux. It's a reasonable substitute for a knot, with the advantage of not having to wait for it to go down again after, and Giroux keens when Marc rubs against his prostate.

“Fuck yes, like that.” Giroux comes as Marc works his fist back and forth inside him, his hole spasming around Marc’s wrist as Kris strokes Marc to his own orgasm, while biting marks into his throat and shoulders.

Kris pulls out as he comes, spilling mostly across Marc's back rather than inside him. It’s something Marc has always appreciated, the reminder that he is not tied, but it’s a preference Giroux doesn’t share as he complains when Marc tries to pull his hand away.

Marc shifts to get comfortable, whining at the empty feeling until Kris pushes fingers into him. “I need more than that,” he complains.

When he finally pulls his hand away, Giroux adds his own protests. “That was good but it’s not going to be enough.”

“Unlike you two omegas, I need some recovery time,” Kris points out.

“Fine. We'll do without you,” Marc says. He smirks at Giroux. “You got a preference?”

“It’s your rodeo,” Giroux says, weakly waving a hand at him.

Marc grins. “You want me to take you for a ride?” He is strangely captivated by the idea; Giroux has a good sized cock for an omega and Marc likes the thought of giving Kris a show. 

“So long as I get something out of it afterwards.” Giroux makes a pretence at reluctance but Marc can tell from the way his cock twitches that he is more eager than he wants to let on.

“You’ll get it, don’t worry.” Marc sits astride Giroux’s hips, showing off his flexibility and reaches behind to guide Giroux’s cock into him where he is still loose and sloppy with Kris’ cum. 

They move together leisurely at first, Marc satisfied at just being filled. They take their time, pleasure building and giving Kris time to recover, but it doesn't take too long before Marc gets impatient again, and starts to pick up the pace.

After a few minutes Kris presses up behind him, wrapping an arm around Marc's waist and kissing the back of his neck and then reaches under him to finger Giroux, who nearly bucks Marc off before settling down.

“Come on Letang, put some effort into it,” Giroux goads him. “I’m not some beta that you have to go easy on. Maybe I should've gone and found an actual alpha-” His words cut off with a gasp.

Knowing both of them, Marc suspects the provocation was deliberate on Giroux’s part and Kris is giving him exactly what he wants. He can feel the tremors running through Giroux’s body and the way Kris’s arm knocks into his back as he drives his fingers roughly into Giroux’s hole.

“You want my hand or my dick?” Kris asks him, with an evidently vicious twist of his wrist.

“Fuck you, Letang,” spits Giroux, even as he rocks his hips up to get more contact.

Marc leans down and kisses him to shut him up. Giroux bites at his lip because he’s still an asshole even when they’re fucking. “Play nice,” Marc chides him. “Tanger’s going to give you what you need.”

“Could he do it quicker?” Giroux grumbles.

“If you want my dick, you're going to have to help me out here,” Kris says, pushing Marc up and off Giroux’s cock.

Marc whines at having to move, hating being empty when he is so deep into his heat, but they manage to get a pillow under Giroux's hips so Kris has enough space to fuck him.

Kris shifts behind them and helps guide Giroux’s cock back inside Marc who groans in relief. Marc feels Kris’ hard cock rub against his own ass before Kris slams into Giroux.

Marc lets Kris find a rhythm and then starts to move again in counterpoint to it. Giroux digs his fingers into Marc's shoulders and back as he tries to hang on, while Kris holds onto Marc’s hips to steady himself. Marc hopes they leave marks.

Giroux comes before Marc is finished, crying out and trying to push Marc away. “Couldn’t you wait, you fucker,” Marc complains, “I’m not done.”

He tries to work himself on Giroux’s softening cock, heat so close to breaking, and Kris pushes two fingers into him alongside it. Marc leans forward to kiss Giroux again, distracting him from the overstimulation while Kris works him to completion.

Finally Marc comes, spilling over Giroux’s chest then slumps forward, uncaring of the mess. This is another of his favourite parts of heat, feeling satisfyingly fucked out. Giroux still looks grumpy but honestly, Marc's used to his face by now. 

Kris drops down beside them looking exhausted but also somewhat smug. They lie there for a few minutes before Giroux starts to fidget. “Well, as fun as this has been, I'm heading off,” he tells them.

Kris makes an sound of complaint as Giroux extracts himself from their pile of limbs. “I'm going to stink of you two,” Giroux continues to grumble as he pulls on his clothes, though Marc notices he hasn’t even tried to clean off their cum.

Marc smiles at the thrilling thought that Giroux is going to walk out smelling of him and Kris. “Don't lie, you love it,” he says.

“I'll let myself out,” Giroux says, refusing to agree but not denying it.

“Don't let the door hit you on the way,” Kris chirps, then yelps as Marc pinches him.

“We'll miss you too,” Marc calls as the door closes, ensuring he gets the last word.

Marc rolls over to snuggle with Kris. “Why do I have to be the little spoon?” Kris complains but he doesn't push Marc away.

“Because you’re the shorter one,” Marc tells him, digging his chin into Kris’ shoulder to make a point.

“Whatever,” Kris says dismissively but within minutes he is asleep.

Marc can still feel the used ache between his legs and is sure Giroux must feel the same. Tomorrow's game is going to be fun; Marc can hardly wait.


End file.
